Poetry Forum

Snooker

The May evening: humid, still,
like lovers sleeping in late;

the cue ball breaks land speed records
across the rippleless baize. One Four Seven.

Ronnie’s on fire.
Ali’s the undercat.

Frogs, spotted with raindrops,
hop across the amphibian-pass,

canaling it along the Sheaf’s meander,
croaking, “Race you!”

You’ve beaten me to it, this time:
you’re the one who made it to the pub,

while I played MC Hammer on Youtube,
wondering, what’s the time? What’s the time?

You’re holding me to ransom -
I’m abducted to this, and you;

but your fee, I'll raise:
The love of a man’s lifetime.

There seemed to be a lot going on here, and it didn't seem to hang together for me. There were some nice lines I liked.

The May evening: humid, still,
like lovers sleeping in late;

While I like this, I think it could do without the "in". It did strike me as a little odd, but perhaps it's just me. "Sleeping in" has always seemed more of a morning phrase rather than evening.

the cue ball breaks land speed records
across the rippleless baize. One Four Seven.

"Rippleless" seems awkward. "Perfect" might be a better expression.

Frogs, spotted with raindrops,
hop across the amphibian-pass,

I started losing the thread here. Perhaps I'm missing a reference?

canaling it along the Sheaf’s meander,
croaking, “Race you!”

Here, I'm see that the above and its preceding couplet are perhaps just scene-setters. It's nice after rain shower image, but I am not sure how it relates to the implied competition in the pub.

You’ve beaten me to it, this time:
you’re the one who made it to the pub,

while I played MC Hammer on Youtube,
wondering, what’s the time? What’s the time?

This seems to suggest that the two of them live together, but are having trouble keeping up with each other.

You’re holding me to ransom -
I’m abducted to this, and you;

but your fee, I'll raise:
The love of a man’s lifetime.

With the above, I'm really not sure I get the point. Is the persona keen on the pool player or the game? Is the game just a metaphor for the player? Is it one of two lovers deciding it's time to open the field to competition from other suitors? What's happening?

I hope my many questions suggest some answers.

I think Gene's on it with this one Stu. This is a bit dense, and doesn't seem to fit together.

It's not that the poem makes too many allusions, but that you've got more than one scenario on the go here (three by my counts: the frogs, the snooker, the relationship), and it's difficult work trying to fit them together. You're obviously try to work them all into one big metaphorical soup, but I don't think it works just yet. Neither the snooker, the frogs, nor the relationship are given enough room to breathe. I thik this stems from the fact that my problem, at the moment, with this is having difficulty seeing the importance of each part. The centre, it seems, is about you and the other person, and apart from the racing, I'm having difficulty working the rest into the poem.

I'd suggest, instead of cutting this down, really expanding it. 100 lines or something. I want a living May evening, an irate game of snooker, and a delicate relationship. Only then, I think, will they really all feel together. At the moment some parts feel, in the hierarchy of the poem, unimportant. If you made all three scenarios as important as each other, you wouldn't have to densely link them so much, but just offer them to us.

Dave

Didn't really get much out of this, Stu. It just doesn't sound like you. There's something missing - soul, spirit, call it what you will. It lacks that which brings your slaty Welsh mountain poems to life, likewise your Gedichte aus den Österreichen Alpen.
Maybe I'm too conservative.

Barrie